A Longer Time Between
by The Next Man
Summary: In another world, Lord Voldemort's luck was great. But here, it took him far longer to return. Rated T for violence and language.
1. Graduation

_In another world, the luck of Lord Voldemort was great. He was weakened by his defeat in Godric's Hollow, but many things went right for him afterwards. Quirrinous Quirrel, soon to be hired as a Defense Professor at Hogwarts, stumbled upon him and was weak enough in mind to be possessed. Some years later, Sirius Black failed to secure Peter Pettigrew, who escaped to find his master. Bartimaeous Crouch was convinced by his wife to save his son, long before that, and his son eventually escaped from Crouch's care to help his master return. But in _this_ world, none of that happened._

_Quirrel was never unfortunate enough to find the wraith of Lord Voldemort, and returned to Hogwarts sound in mind and body. Sirius Black had the presence of mind to tell the Minister that Ron Weasley's rat was actually Pettigrew, and was cleared by the Ministry as an innocent man. Much earlier, Crouch refused to rescue his son from the tender care of the Dementors in Azkaban. And so Lord Voldemort remained in his dark forest, skulking in Albania. Harry Potter, though renowned at first, was able to take his place in the wizarding world and become an ordinary boy – talented, but not extraordinary. He happily left his relatives' care to live with Sirius Black, cheered for Cedric Diggory along with the rest when he won the Triwizard Tournament, and was made prefect, and following that Head Boy. He did well on his OWLs and NEWTs, and is about to graduate from Hogwarts._

_But even Lord Voldemort's lesser luck can eventually win out._

* * *

"…and so, I'd like to wish all of my fellow students farewell. I hope that you all go out into the world and do great things," Harry finished, stepping away from the podium.

"Thank you for those words, Lord Potter," Dumbledore said, stepping forward. "Now that we've heard from out Head Boy, I believe that our Head Girl, Hermione Granger, has something to say. Miss Granger?"

Harry smiled as his friend began her speech. It was long-winded and rambling, but she was far less overt in displaying her intelligence than she once was. The rest of Hogwarts listened attentively to her, and clapped enthusiastically when she was finished.

"Well done, Hermione!" he told her as she stepped back to stand next to him. She had refused to let her friends read her speech before she gave it.

"Yeah, good show," Ron Weasley, Gryffindor's Quidditch captain, told her. He, along with the other seventh-year captains (Draco Malfoy and Terry Boot), was sharing the stage with the Professors and the Head Boy and Girl.

Hermione smiled, a little wider at Ron than at Harry. She had dated the redhead for several months at the beginning of their seventh year, and although they had broken it off and were still on good terms, Harry knew she still held a torch for the Gryffindor Keeper. 'Weasley is our king' indeed.

"I just hope that it wasn't too long," she fretted.

"It was fine," Terry assured her. "Mind you, if it had been much longer you'd have been pushing it, but you finished before it got tedious."

Draco, the only person left who hadn't commented, wrinkled his nose. "It wasn't bad," he finally admitted. He was on better terms with Harry and his friends since sixth year, but they would never be great friends. At least they weren't hexing each other anymore. Although Harry was sure that Ron was tempted.

"I wish that our NEWT scores weren't delayed," Hermione said. "Normally we would have gotten them already!"

"But we didn't," Ron said with a shrug. "We'll get them tomorrow."

"Don't stress out," Harry advised her. "It makes your hair frizzy."

The graduation ceremony finished without incident. It was, truthfully, exactly the same as Harry had seen it the six years that he wasn't graduating. A speech from the Head Boy and Girl, a speech from the Minister about the importance of children, a speech from Headmaster Dumbledore, speeches from any graduating Quidditch captains, and acknowledgement of all graduating students. There was a party held in the Gryffindor common room, and parties in the others as well, if the rumors were true. Luna Lovegood had confirmed that there was a relatively subdued party in Ravenclaw, and Theodore Nott, who took Arithmancy with Harry and Hermione, had agreed that there was one in Slytherin as well, but it was 'for those who're of-age only'.

"Congratulations, Harry," Sirius Black, his guardian, said as he stepped off the platform. "You made it through seven years at Hogwarts without anyone nearly dying!"

"Well, there's still tonight and tomorrow morning," Harry joked. "There's still time!"

"Sure, but how likely is it that someone will die in the next 15 hours?" asked Remus Lupin, hugging Harry.

"It depends," Sirius began. "If we–"

"No, Sirius."

"Oh, fine. Not very likely."

"I think we can make it through 15 hours," Ron said with a snort. "It's not like Harry is a magnet for trouble or anything."

The next-morning – the last day at Hogwarts for the graduating seventh-years - they would _finally_ get the NEWT scores. There had apparently been some sort of mix-up with the Address quill the Ministry of Magic used, and it had Addressed half of the seventh-years' results to Antarctica before it had been noticed. All the letters had had to be readdressed, and the delay, while only of a few days, had caused Hermione and all of the Ravenclaws to go frantic.

Harry, despite his strict orders to Hermione that she had to eat, found himself quite unable to eat breakfast. The NEWT results were expected at 9:00, and breakfast ended at 8:45, though, so he had to eat something. Or he would if not for Fred and George's Christmas present to him back in 3rd year, that is. The Marauders' Map had let him find the kitchens easily. He would drop in to get some food from the elves.

"I don't know _how_ you can eat, Ron!" Hermione wailed. "They come in half an hour!"

True to their word, at exactly 9:00 o'clock, 37 beautiful golden owls from the Ministry swirled in to drop heavy letters in front of each seventh-year. Harry held his breath as he tore open the letter and scanned his results.

**Harrison James Potter, your scores on the 1998 Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests are as follows:  
– Advanced Arithmancy -** O**  
– Advanced Charms -** E**  
– Advanced Defense -** O**  
– Advanced Potions -** E**  
– Advanced Transfiguration -** E

**Your overall average is E/O.**

_**Tiberius Ogden,**_** Head of the Department of Magical Education**

Harry breathed out a sigh of relief. He had done it. He had passed all five of his NEWTs – even Potions, which he had the most difficulty with. It was only thanks to Hermione's patient tutelage that he had made the O required to enter Professor Snape's Advanced Potions class (and then only by a single percentage point). Defense had been simple, of course, and he had always had a knack for Arithmancy which only Hermione and Theo had been able to match.

"Hey, Ron," he said, poking his redheaded friend. "How'd you do?"

"Here, let's swap," Ron said, passing him his letter. Harry ran an eye down Ron's page. There were no 'O's there, except for Ancient Runes, of course. Ron was a polyglot – he had no trouble keeping up with the many different languages they had to learn for Ancient Runes. Harry, on the other hand, had happily dropped it after OWL year, having only gotten an 'A'. Ogham, Atlantean, _and_ Norse runes were too many for him to keep track of, and you only got more to memorize in NEWT years.

"Hermione, how'd you do?" Ron asked Hermione.

"Not bad…" she said slowly.

Ron snatched it from her. "You did great, Hermione," he snorted. "Stop acting depressed. Look, Harry, she got an O in everything but Defense, and there she has an E."

"Of course," Harry said with a snort. "Anything less than perfection isn't good enough for our Hermione."

"I'm not _that_ bad," Hermione protested. "…am I?"

"Not anymore, no," Ron assured her while Harry rubbed his brow. "Hey, what's wrong, Harry?"

"Nothing," Harry said, shaking his head to clear it. "I thought for a moment… nevermind."

"Harry?"

"I thought for a moment someone was hexing me or something, but it's gone now," he assured his friends. "It felt, just for a second, like my scar was burning."

* * *

"Potter?" said Professor Snape, glancing up from the paperwork he was filling out. "What do you want?"

"A little while ago, something strange happened," Harry said, grimacing with the necessity of going to Snape for help. "It felt for a moment like my scar was on fire. It wasn't very bad, and it lasted for less than a second, but considering how I got it…"

"Not something to ignore," Snape finished.

"Yes. And you're the most knowledgeable person I know about the Dark Arts, so I came to ask you what you thought."

"Not your werewolf uncle?" Snape asked with a sneer.

"Remus is great, but his expertise is in Dark creatures," Harry said, ignoring the sneer. "You know more about the magical part of the Dark Arts. Do you have any idea what might have done it?"

"Not at present, Potter, but if you are willing I can look into your mind to feel it for myself," Snape suggested.

Harry could tell that Snape didn't expect him to agree. But really, legilimency wasn't _that_ bad. True, when Dumbledore had begun teaching it and its counterpart, Occlumency, as a one-year elective for NEWT students, both had been very unpleasant – but he and his friends had spent some time practicing both, and were more comfortable with it now. He mentally prepared himself to receive a foreign presence, and nodded.

Snape raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment, merely raising his wand and murmuring "_Legilimens."_ A moment later, Harry felt the Potions Master's presence enter his mind. Harry's mindscape was pretty simple – his memories and thoughts were kept hidden as books in a massive, mazelike library. He guided Snape's mind-self along the shelves to where the memory of his scar burning rested, a thin pamphlet resting along with a dozen other memories relating to the scar. They were near a large black door made of solid stone which Harry had sealed when he found the strange passage within his mind, as he built the mindscape. He barely ever thought of it anymore. Ignoring the door, Harry caused the relevant memory to glow red, and Snape selected it.

A moment later, Snape was absent, and Harry opened his eyes to see the Potions Master stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I'll have to talk to the Headmaster about this," he said after a moment. "What was that door, Potter?"

"The black one?"

"Obviously," Snape drawled.

"I don't know," Harry said. "It's always been there, I think. I found it while I was building my mindscape in Professor Dumbledore's class last year, and I just sealed it off. I don't think of it often."

"Is there a reason it's near the memories about your scar?" Snape asked.

Harry shrugged. "As I said, I don't think about it often. It never stirs or anything." He paused. "Actually, now that I think about it, I think it stirred a little when my scar hurt. I didn't notice because of the physical pain, but… yeah, it definitely stirred little. Not as if someone was trying to open it, more like someone was moving around behind it, I think."

"Well, you did well to come to me," Snape told Harry. "Now go away. I may not hate you anymore, but I don't like you."

Harry merely grinned and waved at the taciturn professor as he left.

* * *

**A/N: Welcome, welcome, to another fanfiction tumbling out of the twisted depths of my tormented soul. This one is based around the idea of "What if Harry made it through his school years without anything really happening?" So, as mentioned at the beginning of this chapter, Voldemort has been unsuccessful in his attempts to return thus far (but he will return soon). Since nothing really happened to keep Harry in the public eye, he's just another guy, although people do remember that he used to be well-known. Most people know his name, but they aren't fawning over him or anything. Some more backstory will be revealed as the story progresses, but at the end of each chapter I'll list the confirmed changes from it, as well as the most important ones to remember, which will be underlined.  
**

**Harry is no longer famous.  
Harry took Arithmancy and Ancient Runes as electives.  
Harry is excellent at Arithmancy.  
Ron took Ancient Runes as an elective  
Ron is excellent at Ancient Runes and is in fact a polyglot.  
Snape has pretty much gotten over his hatred of Harry, and no longer sees him as another James, but instead as his own man.  
Harry doesn't hate Snape.  
Sirius told the Minister that Ron's rat was actually a transformed Peter Pettigrew, leading to his release about halfway through third year.  
Cedric won the Triwizard Tournament, which Harry didn't compete in.  
Dumbledore teaches Occlumency and Legilimency to NEWT students who wish to learn to.**

**Otherwise, know that while there will be pairings, there will _not_ be slash. Any pairings are likely to be secondary to the main plot.  
**


	2. Dinner

That night, after bidding farewell to all his friends, Harry left Hogwarts. He would see the wondrous castle again, he was certain, but for now he had to leave.

After he dropped his stuff off in Sirius' house – Number 12 Grimmauld Place, which had been raided by the Ministry during his imprisonment and had to be entirely refurnished – he went out to meet Remus and Sirius at Gryffon's. They were paying for a nice dinner at the high-class restaurant just off Diagon Alley in celebration of Harry's graduation from Hogwarts.

"So Harry," Remus asked as their food arrived. "Do you have any plans as to what you'll do know that you're not in school anymore?"

"No definite plans," Harry said, digging into his hippogriff steak happily. "Obviously, once I turn thirty I'll have to take the Potter family's ancestral seat on the Wizengamot, but that's not for years yet. You can keep it for all I care." Remus had been appointed the custodian for the seat while Harry was under the minimum age required to be a member. Strictly speaking, Sirius should have had it as Harry's guardian, but he already had the Black family seat, and didn't want to deal with the Potter seat as well, so he appointed Remus as his proxy. "Too bad I can't just bring you into the Potter family, then I wouldn't have to take it at all…"

"You can't go adopting people willy-nilly, Harry," Sirius teased him. "Too much paperwork."

"And my family's not related to yours anyway," Remus mused. "Don't worry, Harry, I'll make sure you're ready to take it when your time comes."

Harry shrugged. "Any job I get will have a limited shelf-life, anyway. I have the OWL and NEWT scores for most anything I'd want, but I don't really have a preference."

"I thought you were thinking of being a curse-breaker?" Remus asked.

"That was four years ago!" Harry pointed out. "Before Ancient Runes got ridiculously difficult. I'd need someone to help translate runes for me if I followed Bill's route."

"What are your friends thinking of doing?" Sirius asked. "That might help you decide."

"Hermione plans to get noticed by the Department of Mysteries," Harry said.

"Of course she is. Does she have a plan for it? They don't exactly take applications, after all," Remus said. "They just snag people from other Departments."

"She wants to get hired by the Department of Experimental Charms and do research for them," Harry said. "And of course she wants to get Masteries in Charms and Transfigurations."

Sirius snorted. "Good luck to her with that. Not many people get more than one Mastery."

"If anyone can do it, Hermione can," Remus pointed out.

"True."

"Ron wants to be a professional Keeper, of course," Harry continued. "Thankfully, Hermione bugged him into having a back-up plan. He's going to apply to the Department of International Magical Cooperation as a translator. He loves learning new languages, so that'll be a good fit for him once the Keeper thing doesn't work out."

"Have a little more faith in him," Remus urged Harry. "He's not a genius Keeper like your father was at Chasing, but most of the Keepers in the league right now aren't great either. Oliver Wood is one of the better ones right now. How does Ron stack up to him?"

"He's better than Oliver on his good days," Harry admitted. "But he sometimes gets nervous and starts fumbling horribly. He's been better about that lately, but…"

"If he does get hired as a professional I'm certain it'll do wonders for his confidence," Sirius pointed out. "And then he'd have a good broom, which would also help. But let's get back to your classmates. What about Neville? And that Slytherin your friendly with, Nott?"

"Neville's already worked out an Apprenticeship with Professor Sprout," Harry said, waving that away. "I think she's going to have him start with some of the first-years, then get another year to teach every year until he's doing half the classes over all seven years, and then she'll retire and he'll take over. All very smooth. Nott wants to get an apprenticeship with Ollivander."

"We do need someone to take over for him," Sirius admitted. "He's getting up there in age. Nearly 140 now, I think."

"Are there any other classmates whose plans you know?" Remus asked.

Harry eyed the werewolf. "Anyone in particular you're thinking about?"

"Draco Malfoy," Sirius admitted shamelessly. "Lucius is getting pretty smug about something, and I'm certain it has to do with his son."

Harry stared for a moment longer before answering. "Nott mentioned that he had been bragging about an apprenticeship with Arnold Dane."

Sirius whistled softly, and Harry was pretty sure he knew why. Arnold Dane was the head of the Children's Ward of St. Mungo's, which was far more important than it sounded. Magical Britain really valued its young ones. Most of the best healers in the nation worked in the Children's Ward, which was a full half of St. Mungo's. The other half was all of the other wards put together – the Dangerous Creatures Ward, the Serious Injuries Ward, all of them. Dane was probably the best Healer in the country for any kind of injury. "I wouldn't have thought he'd go for Healing," Sirius commented.

"Probably looking to specialize in curses and other Dark injuries," Remus guessed. "If he's known to have worked in Children's Ward and to have apprenticed under Healer Dane, people will see him as more moderate than his father once he takes his place on the Wizengamot."

"Lucius doesn't plan to step down for Draco immediately," Sirius pointed out. "Malfoy the younger might have time to reach high ranks within the Ward before he takes his seat, which would further add to his reputation. He might even be able to spin himself as a Light wizard coming from a Dark line, like I'm known to be."

"Can we get off politics?" Harry asked.

"Sure," Remus said agreeably. "How's deciphering the Map going?" Harry groaned, and the two Marauders laughed.

Ever since he had been given it in his third year, Harry had been trying to recreate the Marauders' Map. The spellwork was incredibly complicated – Harry still wasn't finished, even after trying to figure it out for four years. At the end of third year Remus had taken pity on him and given him the final resultant used by the Marauders – the single equation which described the effects off all the spells put together. Of course that didn't tell Harry how to actually _cast_ the final spell – he had to extrapolate the individual spells and their components. Sirius had given him the hint that the spells were cast separately, so he couldn't just work out the components of the resultant spell, and Remus had given him the number of spells – seven – and the fact that only one was a custom spell. Six spells that already existed and one which Harry wouldn't be able to find anywhere else.

Harry had extrapolated five of the seven, all spells which existed already. If he could figure out the last one, he'd be able to factor out the resultant of the last spell and then extrapolate how to cast the custom spell made by the Marauders. If he did that he'd be able to make similar living maps for anywhere. Of course, Sirius and Remus refused to give him any more help.

"I've got five of the seven," Harry said. "I cracked number five only a few days ago, actually. If I can find the last extant spell then it'll be simple to get the custom spell, and then I'll be done."

"Good luck with that," Remus told him. "I doubt you'll ever guess what it is."

"I almost certain that it's a compulsion charm of some sort," Harry retorted. "And there are only 23 of those you could've used. It's only a matter of time, Moony."

"Unless the custom spell is the compulsion charm," Sirius put in.

Harry shook his head. "No, it has to be something to animate the ink. The other spells don't leave anything out but that and a compulsion charm, and there aren't any charms which will animate the ink properly without animating the paper, too. It won't take me long to figure out which compulsion charm it is, and then I'll have it. A week at most, Padfoot."

* * *

A week later, however, Harry had no idea what to do. None of the 23 compulsion charms worked. All of them unbalanced the total set far too much for the remainder to make up for, or simply failed. One canceled out the disillusionment charm that affected the ink and let the Map hide itself. One broke the password charm. There were other compulsion charms, illegal ones, but the Marauders wouldn't have used any of those… would they?

At least his job hunting was going better than the Map was. Gringotts had agreed to take him on as a Wardcrafter on a trial basis – his low scores in Ancient Runes worked against him there. But his high Arithmancy scores had made up for it – he would be calculating balances and designing the wards while others wrote the actual runes and did the spellwork itself. He would probably help feed power into the wards to charge them, and would get practical experience in Ancient Runes. At least he understood the runes for warding and protection better than other kinds. The hiring goblin had probably seen that.

Harry finally had to time visit Gringotts and get a full statement of his assets, the day after being hired. He had been far too busy thus far – he could only do it after his seventeenth birthday, then he had to retake his Apparation test over Christmas break, then Sirius had kidnapped him and taken him to Majorca over Easter break. It had been fun, but it kept him from any Gringotts outlet to find out what he owned.

"Yes?" inquired the goblin he approached. "What is it, Warder Potter?"

"I'm not on the clock right now," Harry informed the goblin. "I'd like to see a listing of my vaults and all their contents." He knew, after all, that he owned two vaults – the Potter family vault and the Potter trust vault, which he had access to while still a minor.

"Of course, Mr. Potter," said the goblin. "Your key?" Harry handed it over, and the goblin inspected it closely before inserting it into the lock of a drawer on its desk. The drawer slid open, and the goblin handed over the contents as well as the key. "Will that be all?"

"That's all for now, yes." Harry walked away, flicking through the file. He had three vaults, surprisingly. The Potter family vault, the Potter trust vault, and the Gaunt family vault. He wondered why he owned the Gaunt vault – if the family was extinct and the Potters were the holders of the vault, it would have been folded into the Potter family vault and the Gaunt vault would be shut down. Perhaps Lily Evans hadn't been as muggleborn as commonly thought? There would probably be a family tree in the Gaunt vault.

He sat down on one of the hard stone benches in the lobby and continued reading. The Potter family owned three buildings: a small manor house, not far from Hogsmeade; an apartment building in muggle London – the penthouse was always reserved for the Potters or their guests, but the rest was being rented out; and a cottage in Godric's Hollow. That made Harry pause – it seemed that the Ministry hadn't actually taken possession of it when it was made a national monument. Should he have them evicted and get the house repaired? No, Harry decided. It was an important monument, after all. Besides, he thought, looking at the total Galleon value of the Potter family vault, he didn't have enough money to spare for repairing a cottage he would probably never use. He only had 10,000 galleons, which was about 50,000 pounds in muggle money. He was well-off enough, especially with the money he would make as a Wardcrafter, but he didn't have enough money to throw around like that. Maybe he would do it later, when he had more money to spare and a need for a nice little cottage.

He glanced at what was left of the Potter trust vault. It was nearly empty – only 100 galleons or so left after all he had used during his time at school. There was a note that it would soon be folded into the Potter vault and the vault closed until he reactivated it for his own children. Sensible.

He turned to look at the Gaunt vault's statement. Another two buildings – there was a small piece of land out in the country, near a village called Little Hangleton. He'd have to go check it out eventually – maybe he could use it for something. Not high priority, regardless. The other building he recognized as his 'Aunt' Petunia's old childhood home. That confirmed it for Harry: Lily had clearly been a descendant of the Gaunts, presumably through a squib child. The rest of the family gets wiped out, the first wizard (or witch) from the squib line gets the vault again. Simple enough. The vault was earmarked to be folded into the Potter vault, although it needed his approval for that. It contained a surprising amount – 5,000 galleons. He would add that to the Potter vault.

All that was left, Harry decided, was to actually visit the Gaunt vault and the Potter vault to see if there were any family heirlooms or valuable books in them. Each noted that there were 'miscellaneous valuables' within, meaning not galleons.

* * *

**Harry is no longer famous.****  
Harry took Arithmancy and Ancient Runes as electives.  
Harry is excellent at Arithmancy.  
Ron took Ancient Runes as an elective.  
Ron is excellent at Ancient Runes and is in fact a polyglot.  
Snape has pretty much gotten over his hatred of Harry, and no longer sees him as another James, but instead as his own man.  
Harry doesn't hate Snape.  
Sirius told the Minister that Ron's rat was actually a transformed Peter Pettigrew, leading to his release about halfway through third year.  
Cedric won the Triwizard Tournament, which Harry didn't compete in.  
Dumbledore teaches Occlumency and Legilimency to NEWT students who wish to learn them.  
Remus is currently the custodian of the Potter family's ancestral seat in the Wizengamot.  
Harry is friendly with Theodore Nott.  
****Lily was related to the Gaunts.**


	3. Vaults

Harry went back up to the goblin's desk and rapped on it to get the goblin's attention.

The goblin glanced up at him and sneered. "Back again, Mr. Potter?"

"I'd like to visit my vaults," Harry said, ignoring the goblin's disdain. "First the Potter family vault, then the Gaunt vault."

The goblin nodded and beckoned for Harry to follow. Harry followed the diminutive creature down into the second Gringotts lobby, where higher-ranked goblins worked. The goblin took him to another goblin, a few inches taller than most goblins and with rather distinctive blue eyes rather than the orange shades of most goblins.

"In the future, Mr. Potter," said the first goblin, "as you are now of-age, you should come directly to your family manager." It nodded to the blue-eyed goblin, then walked back to its desk.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter," said the blue-eyed goblin, smiling widely. Its mouth stretched far more than a normal humans could, and Harry noticed that it had two rows of teeth, all serrated. "I am Kraghorn. I've served the Potters as their accounts manager since your grandfather's time."

Harry nodded. "Good to meet you, Kraghorn. What are your duties as my accounts manager?"

"I'm in charge of security for all your vaults," Kraghorn said, "as well as overseeing any transfers between your vaults. If you wish to transfer the contents of the Gaunt vault to the Potter vault, for example, you can send me an owl rather than coming here and doing it yourself, and I can do that for you."

"I wanted to ask about that, actually," Harry said. "How did I get the Gaunt vault? Is there a family tree I can look at? I'm pretty sure that it came through my mother, but…"

"A common misconception," Kraghorn sneered, wrinkling its nose. "Gringotts doesn't maintain family trees, wills, or anything beyond the vaults themselves. We received a message from your Ministry that the Gaunt vault was to be granted to Lily Evans, and she left most of her possessions, including her vault, to you in her will. However," it admitted, "there may be a family tree within the vault itself."

"I'd like to see the Potter vault, then," Harry said. "And the Gaunt vault after that."

* * *

After a long ride in a cart traveling at exhilarating speeds, Kraghorn led Harry down a long flight of stairs, then into a stone slide similar to ones Harry had used in Hogwarts. Harry was pretty sure that they were at least 100 feet below the trust vault which he had visited the other times he came to Gringotts, and Kraghorn was leading him towards yet another flight of stairs. Harry glanced at one of the vaults. It had an ornate M inscribed on the door in silver, with emeralds surrounding it, and was numbered 138. He wondered who it belonged to.

"That one is the main Potter vault," Kraghorn said, pointing to the one just before 178, 137. The Potter vault had a plain P in gold, and there was what looked like a single large opal where there would normally be a door handle. "You'll need to claim the Potter family ring to open it. Just place your hand on the opal and be ready for a sting."

Harry nodded – he had heard about this from Sirius – and put his hand on the opal. A moment later, he felt a sharp pain on the palm of his hand, and a gentle presence in his mindscape. It wasn't alive, he could tell that, but it was examining him. After a few seconds, the spell-presence seemed satisfied, and retreated. In the real world, of course, it had happened instantaneously. The opal seemed to melt for a moment, and two tendrils extended out to wrap around his ring finger. When he lifted his hand, he was wearing a beautiful ring made entirely from beautiful opal, translucent and filled with slowly shifting sparkles.

Kraghorn nodded in approval. "Now simply command the door to open. It will not open if the Lord Potter, wearing the Potter family ring that you just received, doesn't agree. Even I wouldn't be able to open it without your permission – you would feel the spells inquiring if you wished to grant me admittance, even if you were on the other side of the world."

Harry smiled – it was a remarkable system – and mentally commanded the door to open. The sparkles within the large opal spun for a moment, as did the family ring's, then they formed into a P matching the one on the door. The stone shifted, swinging back into the vault, and Harry could see that it was a full foot thick – or more likely it was slightly more, 13 inches. He didn't spend much time thinking about the Arithmantic advantages of thirteen, though, amazed by the contents of his vault.

The back wall was obscured by three enormous glass jars, each full of coinage – one held galleons, another held sickles, and a third contained knuts. The left wall was entirely covered in bookcases, and the right wall had a zigzagging staircase up it, each step a drawer. Little cubbies on the right wall, each in reach from the staircase, held chests, old broomsticks, and more exotic things. This would take time to go through.

"Kraghorn, are you familiar with the contents of the vault?" Harry asked, a little dazed. Sure, it wasn't actually all that much, but it sure seemed like it. "Just tell me the most important things held here. Very rare books, artifacts, that sort of thing."

The blue-eyed goblin nodded. "The vault contains copies of the first editions of _Hogwarts, a History _as well as _A History of Magic _and _Quidditch Through the Ages._ It has the last remaining copy of the first edition of Twilfit's _A Pureblood Guide,_ currently in its 72nd printing. I believe there's an abstract book on Occlumency, as well as the journal of Gunning Potter, who was a noted Legilimens and was rumored to write his theories on the human mind within his journal, although I haven't read it and so can't confirm that. Artifact wise…" Kraghorn paused, thinking. "I think there's a Silver Arrow in good condition, which of course doesn't stack up to recent brooms but is still prized by collectors. There's a prophecy sphere about Guy Potter, your great-grandfather, which was fulfilled and can now be listened to by anyone. The third chest up the right wall is a collection of pensieve memories, and the second staircase contains old wands. That's all I can recall. Of course, I haven't been inside this vault in more than eighteen years, so I may have forgotten something. The total value of miscellaneous items is probably another 10,000 galleons, perhaps a bit more, and I can see some smaller pots which wouldn't have been counted up in the third staircase. Figure maybe 25,000 galleons all together, coinage and items."

Harry nodded slowly. It was more than he expected – about 125,000 pounds, but then he wasn't going to sell this stuff. They were heirlooms, after all. "Any family trees?"

Kraghorn shook his head. "The closest thing is Twilfit's _Guide,_ which is from the fourteen hundreds. There might be a family tree in one of the properties."

Harry nodded. "Okay, I'm done for now. I'd like to see the Gaunt vault."

Kraghorn smiled, showing far too many teeth, and led Harry out. Harry followed the goblin down into the corridor again, down another flight of stairs, and towards the very end of the hall. He glanced at the numbers of the vaults – 18, 17, 16… the Gaunts must have been a _very_ old family, he realized. Finally, Kraghorn stopped at number 13.

"This used to be a different family's vault," Kraghorn told him. "The Gaunts must have been their last descendants. And now it's yours."

Harry regarded the door. It had a beautiful S on it, in a metal which at first glance looked like silver, but had a deeper sheen and pulsed gently with magic. The mithril S was carved to resemble a snake, and it's eyes, two sparkling emeralds, were pointed away from the door, seeming to bore into Harry's soul. He felt his mouth dry up. "Slytherin," he said flatly. "The Gaunts were descended from Slytherin."

Kraghorn nodded. "The Slytherin family vault," the goblin told Harry. "Number thirteen. Supposedly cursed, though that's nonsense."

"Cursed?" Harry asked.

Kraghorn waved it away. "Rumor says that the owners of this vault all die badly, and before their time. Ridiculous, as I said."

Harry nodded, and reached out to touch the emerald which took the place of the handle. Just before he touched it, Kraghorn's voice came. "Stop!"

Harry glanced at the goblin, who was frowning at the door. "That's very strange," it said after a few moments. "It's already given up its ring. At least… 20 years ago, maybe a little bit more. Don't try and touch it, it will only hurt you."

"Then how do I get in?" Harry demanded. "And who is it with the ring?"

Kraghorn snarled, both rows of his sharp teeth showing. "I don't know! I'm certain that no Slytherin heir or Gaunt heir has come by in more than 50 years. The last one with a claim to this vault was your mother, and it wasn't open when she last came."

"Did she take the ring?"

The goblin shook its head. "We live in an old-fashioned world, Mr. Potter. Just as women cannot rule an old family, they cannot wear a family ring. The door opened to her, but it did not recognize her as ruler of its family. Someone came without me knowing, and that should be impossible."

Harry swallowed. "Someone broke into Gringotts. Someone who was active about 20 years ago, and who must have been related to the Gaunts, and through them to Slytherin. Does that remind you of anyone, Kraghorn?"

"It does." The tall goblin said a word in Gobbledegook – Harry didn't know what it meant, but it was surely a curse. "Voldemort."

* * *

**A/N: This one is a bit shorter, but I couldn't resist ending it right there.**

**Harry is no longer famous.****  
Harry took Arithmancy and Ancient Runes as electives.  
Harry is excellent at Arithmancy.  
Ron took Ancient Runes as an elective.  
Ron is excellent at Ancient Runes and is in fact a polyglot.  
Snape has pretty much gotten over his hatred of Harry, and no longer sees him as another James, but instead as his own man.  
Harry doesn't hate Snape.  
Sirius told the Minister that Ron's rat was actually a transformed Peter Pettigrew, leading to his release about halfway through third year.  
Cedric won the Triwizard Tournament, which Harry didn't compete in.  
Dumbledore teaches Occlumency and Legilimency to NEWT students who wish to learn them.  
Remus is currently the custodian of the Potter family's ancestral seat in the Wizengamot.  
Harry is friendly with Theodore Nott.  
****Lily was related to the Gaunts.**


	4. War Council

Kraghorn hurried Harry out of Gringotts - it said something about checking other unused vaults for break-ins. Harry didn't mind. He didn't like the idea of Voldemort having been in his vault, even though he hadn't known it was his until that day.

Harry wondered if be should tell anyone about the break-in. Was there an point? It had been at least 20 years ago, after all. Voldemort was dead and gone. Still...

He'd tell Dumbledore, he decided. The old Headmaster had always been good to him - had helped Sirius get cleared, found Harry's invisibility cloak in the ruins of Godric's Hollow for him. He had defeated Grindlewald. He was one of the greatest wizards in Britain. All of that was entirely beside having been the only person Voldemort had ever feared, also a plus.

When Harry returned home, he found Sirius in the front hall, trying in vain to remove a portrait which silently screamed at him. His mother's portrait was attached to the wall by a Permanent Sticking Charm which had thus far proven impossible to undo. The Ministry workers who had cleared out the house had even tried destroying the wall it sat on, but eventually had to give up and just Silenced it. Harry didn't know what she screeched at her son whenever the late Mrs Black saw Sirius, but it wasn't polite. Sirius's project since he had been freed was trying to unravel the complicated spell work that held the portrait up, with little success.

"How's it going, Sirius?" Harry asked.

"Not so well, but I think I'm close to a breakthrough," Sirius said, poking at something Harry couldn't see. It was probably a piece of the spell work, not a hallucination. Then again, with Sirius you never knew. "Oh, did I tell you that Snape and the Headmaster are coming to dinner tonight?"

"No, but that's good," Harry said. "I wanted to talk to him."

"Oh." Sirius worked in silence for a moment. "Hey Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Snape and the Headmaster are coming over for dinner tonight."

Harry snorted. "I know, Sirius."

"Okay." Sirius worked in silence for a moment again as Harry headed to the stairs. "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"If you knew before I told you, are you a Seer?"

Harry snorted and went upstairs.

* * *

He spent a few hours reading about the various illegal compulsion curse that the Marauders might have used to make the map. There were hundreds listed in the Black family library. All the books which had instructions had been confiscated by the Ministry, but there were three different spell compendiums which included sections on compulsion curses.

Harry had finished reading through _Vergam's Book_ and was about halfway through the _Black Encyclopedia_ when a soft ringing sound began to emanate from his walls. He reached into the magical pocket of his robe and pulled out his watch.

_Dinner,_ it read. _7:00._ Harry flicked his wand and conjured a strip of red silk to use as a bookmark and closed the _Encyclopedia. _"I'm coming!" he called, and the walls stopped ringing.

Harry was already wearing a nice set of robes, but he always liked to look his best for the Headmaster, so he grabbed a tie from his closet and put it on as he hurried downstairs. Rather than taking a Gryffindor tie and antagonizing Snape, though, he chose a slender black tie with an opal clasp at the throat. The symbol of the Potter family was something he couldn't be blamed for wearing, after all.

He stepped into the dining room and saw that Sirius had already arrived, and was arguing with Snape. The Headmaster was nowhere to be seen.

"Black, potions aren't a cure-all!" Snape snapped. "An acid of the strength you need would melt through the painting, yes, then the wall, then the foundation!"

"A _short-lived_ acid!" Sirius shouted. "One that activates on a spell and only lasts a second!"

"To melt through that kind of protective charms, even a second would be too long!"

"Hi," Harry interjected, sitting down. The two older men quieted, apparently calm once more. "Where's the Headmaster?"

"Late," Snape said shortly.

"Do you know why?" Harry asked. It clearly wasn't a Wizengamot thing, or Sirius would also be gone. "Oh, and where's Remus?"

"The Headmaster does not appraise me of his every movement, Potter," Snape said with a faint sneer.

"Remus is taking Tonks out for a congratulatory dinner," Sirius told Harry. "She was just promoted from Junior Auror to full Auror."

"Good for her!" Harry said enthusiastically. "We're not out with them because…"

"Because the Headmaster wants to speak with you," Snape said. "He didn't want to intrude on Miss Tonks' happy occasion. And Black decided that he didn't trust me alone with you."

"That's not true," Sirius objected. "I decided that I… wait, no, that is why I'm still here."

Harry sighed. "Sirius, I must have told you five hundred times since fifth year. Professor Snape isn't evil."

"Just because he agreed to tutor you in Potions so you could get an O," Sirius began.

"Black, enough!" Snape snapped. "I assure you, I would never harm your godson. He is not his father, and I hold no ill will towards him." The potions master eyed Harry. "That does not mean I like him."

There was silence for a few moments before a voice came from the door to the entrance hall. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Not at all, Headmaster," Sirius said with a smile as Harry turned to see the elderly professor standing in the door.

"How many times must I ask you to call me Albus, Sirius?" Dumbledore asked with a faint smile. The Headmaster was wearing a surprisingly mild shade of royal blue with a plain white lining, and had his long hair tied back into a ponytail. The enormous beard, meanwhile, was simply tucked into his belt.

"At least once more, Headmaster, as always," said Sirius with a smile. Snape snorted.

Harry smirked, having seen the ritual between Sirius and Dumbledore before. "Hello, Professor," he greeted the old wizard, swiftly rearranging the smirk into a smile.

"You are no longer my student, Harry," Dumbledore said. "And we have been in each others' minds, after all. I think we can dispense with formalities. Call me Albus."

"Albus," Harry tried, considering it. After a moment he nodded. "Okay, I guess that works. A little weird, though."

"It's like you're calling your own granddad by his name instead of Grandpa," Sirius agreed. "Mind you, I called my granddad by his name. Annoyed the hell out of him."

"We're not here to talk about your abysmal familial relations, Black," Snape sneered.

"Indeed," Dumbledore said, sitting. "We're here to talk about Harry?"

"What about Harry?" Sirius asked warily.

Harry was pretty sure he knew what they were going to talk about – his scar. He didn't really want Sirius to know that something was up with his scar – it would probably hit too close to the hereditary madness the Black family was known for. Sirius had mostly escaped that madness, at least so far. "Before we get to… that… I have something to tell you, Albus."

"Yes?" Dumbledore asked politely.

"I visited Gringotts earlier today," Harry said. "It seems that I inherited a vault from my mother as well as the Potter family vault from my father."

"Go on."

"It wasn't an Evans vault that had been created for her, though," Harry said, glancing at Snape. "It was the family vault of a family called Gaunt."

"She must have been descended from a squib line," Snape said. "I haven't heard of the family. Have you, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore nodded. "An old pureblood line that died out about two centuries ago, if I remember correctly. A bad reputation – they lost most of their wealth and had to retreat to a small property, and haven't been heard from since as far as I know."

"Well, there was apparently about 5000 galleons in the Gaunt vault, probably from my mum," Harry said. "But I never got to actually see any of it or what was inside."

"Why?" asked Sirius.

"When we went down there, I found that it had once been the Slytherin family vault," Harry said. Sirius gasped, and Dumbledore blinked. Snape, however, simply continued to gaze calmly at Harry, with perhaps a slight frown. "The Gaunts were Slytherin's only remaining descendants. And someone had already taken the family ring."

Harry looked right into Dumbledore's eyes, which had lost their customary twinkle. "The vault manager said that the ring had been claimed about twenty years ago, but that no one had come to see the vault in more than fifty years. And twenty years ago, there was only one person who could have broken into Gringotts and claimed the Slytherin family ring. Voldemort."

After a few moments of silence, Sirius said what was on all their minds. "Shit."

"Indeed," said Dumbledore. "Severus, you don't seem very surprised to learn that Lily was descended from the Gaunts and to Slythering through them. Do you have something to tell us?"

Snape's face contorted, as though he was wrestling with himself, trying to make a hard decision, before he spoke. "I already knew that Lily was descended from Slytherin in some manner," he finally said. "I've known since my third year. She was a Parselmouth, you see."

"We never knew," Sirius murmured softly.

"A blood-linked trait, linked to the house of Slytherin," Dumbledore commented. "Of course, not being a member of a noble house, she couldn't claim the Slytherin as her own. Harry, though…"

All eyes turned to Harry. "I could only do that if I'm also a Parselmouth," he pointed out. "I know it's hereditary, but those traits sometimes skip a generation. I've never spoken to a snake as far as I can remember."

"You also haven't encountered many snakes," Sirius pointed out.

"There is a simple enough way to test this," Snape said, drawing his wand. "_Serpensortia."_

A thin green snake of some sort, only a foot long, slithered out from Snape's wand. It raised its head, tongue flickering about, apparently confused. _-|Where am I?|- _it finally asked in a hissing voice.

Everyone turned to look at Harry again. He nodded, feeling slightly ill. "It asked where it is," he said as Snape vanished the snake. "I guess I'm a Parselmouth."

"Oh, I've always wanted to meet a Parselmouth who wasn't trying to kill me," Dumbledore said happily. "Can you speak parseltongue at will, or do you need to be looking at a snake? Do you hear it as normal English, or do you just understand what the snake is saying, like a normal foreign language? When you're speaking parseltongue, does it come out as English that the snakes can understand, or–"

"Headmaster!" Sirius interrupted. "Please, slow down!"

"I just found out, Albus," Harry said with a faint smile. "Maybe we can get together and learn about it some other time."

"Ah, yes…" Dumbledore said, sounding somewhat disappointed. "I apologize, Harry, it's just that Parselmouths are so rare…"

"I understand," Harry assured him.

"Can we get to the original discussion?" Snape said, sounding bored.

"I don't think we ever started the original discussion," Sirius pointed out. "Why did the two of you want to come talk to Harry again?"

"Something which happened the day after Harry's graduation," Dumbledore said. "For a moment, during breakfast, his scar burned."

"Potter came to tell me, as the most knowledgeable in the Dark Arts among those he knew," Snape said as Sirius took a deep breath. "He allowed me to view the memory from his perspective, then, apparently, felt that he had done all that was necessary and kept it to himself."

"Now now, Severus," Dumbledore said gently. "Harry did well. He was right not to want to worry anyone, and telling you was the right thing to do."

Snape simply flared his nostrils. Harry had seen it before – it meant he didn't consider the comment worth responding to.

"So do you know what caused it?" Harry asked.

"The door in your mind," Snape said. "You built the door yourself, yes? It was simply a passage before?" Harry nodded. "I suspect that the curse which struck you forged a connection between you and the Dark Lord – unintentionally, surely, but the fact remains that it is there."

"As the door stirred the same moment your scar hurt, it seems likely that Voldemort is becoming active once more," Dumbledore said gravely. "However, he has no body. There are only a few routes he can go to get one, however. Severus?"

"His strongest route is through the Philosopher's Stone," Snape said. "If he obtained it, he could destroy it to recreate his own body. Thankfully it is in the care of Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel, who together are more than a match for even the Dark Lord."

"His strongest route, you say," Sirius said, voice a little strained. "There are others, then."

Snape sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. There is a very Dark potion which he could use to bring himself back. He would combine the bone of his father, the flesh of a servant, and the blood of an enemy, and the potion would build him a body based on that."

"There are disadvantages to that, however," Dumbledore said. "Namely, he needs a rudimentary body in order for the potion to build it up. I don't know the details, but it involves a ritual to possess a woman's unborn child."

Harry swallowed a bit of bile at the thought. "That's two," he said. "Any others?"

"As a bodiless phantom, he has the power of possession," Snape said. "If he possesses a willing subject for a long period of time – three years was the minimum, I think – their body will slowly become his. There aren't any other ways that we know of–"

"I know one," Sirius interjected. Everyone turned to look at him – he was slightly green. "It's possibly worse than the potion. If he has any living relatives, he could use a ritual which drains their blood and builds it up around a piece of his own bone. It needs an infusion of magic from a willing donor, though."

"And how do you know of this ritual, Black?" Snape sneered.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "As you said, Black. I did a lot of reading in the Black family library the summer of my fourth year. That was the year I thought I'd like to be an Auror, and it's best to know your enemy."

"Sensible," Dumbledore said before Sirius and Snape could start to argue again. "But there is little we could do to stop that. We don't know who Voldemort is, so we don't know where to find any living relatives or where his father's bones would be to block those routes. There are many who still hate and fear him, and he would be able to use any as his enemy. All routes he might use, though, need a willing helper."

"There are loads of Death Eaters who were never arrested, though," Harry pointed out. "I hate to be negative, but…"

"If they knew that Voldemort was alive or where he was, he would have returned long ago," Dumbledore said calmly. "I think that we need more information."

"How do we get that?" Sirius asked.

"There are several ways," Dumbledore said. "I think the best is for Harry to try venturing through the door in his mind."

"I don't think I'm a good enough Legilimens to get into Voldemort's head," Harry said, alarmed.

"Of course, I wouldn't dream of sending you into him without more training," Dumbledore said. "I'll contact the best Legilimens and Occlumens I know. He's the one who got us all the information on the rituals, as well – it would be best for you to meet him anyway. Unfortunately James is in Tibet at the moment, and won't be back for a month…"

"What of the Order?" Snape said. "Will it reform?"

"Not yet, I think," Dumbledore decided. "It will not be needed unless Voldemort returns fully. If we can keep him in his bodiless state he poses little threat. But we should send out feelers regardless. Sirius, perhaps you should speak to your cousin Nymphadora. Severus, are you still in contact with your old compatriots?"

"Unfortunately."

"I know you hate it, Severus, but you must," Dumbledore said. "Harry, I'll send Fawkes to you with a letter once James returns from Tibet. Do any of you have any other ideas?"

"What's the Order exactly?" Harry asked.

"The Order of the Phoenix," Snape said. "A counterpart to the Death Eaters."

"Oh." Harry paused. "Is Healer Dane involved with it?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, Arnold isn't. But perhaps he should be."

"Hold on," Sirius said. "Dane took on Draco Malfoy as his apprentice. Is it a good idea to have him join?"

"Arnold is a good man, Sirius," Dumbledore said. "He's apolitical, yes, but that doesn't mean he supports Voldemort."

"Besides," Harry said, "If he joins he might be able to get Draco to become a spy in the Death Eaters. We'd need one of those, right? More if possible."

"We already have one," Snape said, tapping his chest. "But yes, more would be a help. There are tricks two double-agents can pull which one cannot. But Draco… I'm not sure he would be up to the task."

"He was the best in Occlumency among those of us who took it," Harry pointed out. "I think he'll be fine. If he can be convinced, that is."

There was a sudden _ding_ from Dumbledore's direction. "Oh, I do apologize," he said, pulling out a golden pocket watch and glancing at its face. "I have to go." His phoenix, Fawkes, appeared on his shoulder in a burst of fire.

"I'll come as well, Headmaster," Snape said, rising. He nodded to Harry and Sirius in turn. "Potter. Black." The taciturn potions master then strode over to take Dumbledore's outstretched hand, and with a surge of flame they were gone.

* * *

**Harry is no longer famous.**

**Harry took Arithmancy and Ancient Runes as electives.**

**Harry is excellent at Arithmancy.**

**Ron took Ancient Runes as an elective.**

**Ron is excellent at Ancient Runes and is in fact a polyglot.**

**Snape has pretty much gotten over his hatred of Harry, and no longer sees him as another James, but instead as his own man.**

**Harry doesn't hate Snape.**

**Sirius told the Minister that Ron's rat was actually a transformed Peter Pettigrew, leading to his release about halfway through third year.**

**Cedric won the Triwizard Tournament, which Harry didn't compete in.**

**Dumbledore teaches Occlumency and Legilimency to NEWT students who wish to learn them.**

**Remus is currently the custodian of the Potter family's ancestral seat in the Wizengamot.**

**Harry is friendly with Theodore Nott.**

**Lily was related to the Gaunts.**

**Lily was a Parselmouth and descended from Slytherin.**


	5. Wardcrafting

Harry couldn't wait to meet Dumbledore's friend James, but he had work to do. The very day after the talk with Dumbledore and Snape, Gringotts gave Harry his first assignment. He was being sent to help build a set of wards in Albania. Apparently, there was a powerful Dark creature of some sort in a forest, and while it normally stayed under the trees it had been coming closer and closer to the main village. The one wizard in the area had contacted Gringotts, who agreed to build wards to keep the creature in the forest.

Harry and another Miriam Cohen, another Wardcrafter who was about two years older than Harry, had taken a portkey to the wizards home, and were currently walking to the forest along with a former Auror named Kingsley Shacklebolt. The big black wizard had been retired from active duty after a Dark Wizard's curse destroyed his left arm - he then sought employment with Gringotts, which had less stringent standards for their Guardians. Kingsley confessed that they too were skeptical of hiring a one armed man for a position involving fighting, but after he literally beat their top Guardian with one hand, they reconsidered.

The forest was a ways away, and so Harry and Miriam occupied their time by discussing how to build the wards. They would have to adjust their plans to suit the local ley lines, but their plan was to use a modification of the Golden Frame which was known to be especially effective against Dark creatures, meshed with the Black Cage, which would help give it permanence and strength.

"What's the creature supposed to be, anyway?" Harry asked. "I don't think anyone said."

"That's because it's a new kind," said Miriam. "Or at least, not one anyone Gringotts consulted knew. Some sort of inky cloud with a fanged face."

"Not one I've heard of," said Kingsley.

"Me either, and we can't just go in blind," Harry said. "The Golden Frame is a Grecian construct, and those work best when aligned to opposing elements, one of which should be the primary element of the creature being kept out. Or in, in this case..."

Miriam shrugged. "It's a Dark creature. We'll use Darkness and Light."

Harry sighed. "Fine, you're more experienced than me, I suppose. But there are some weird creatures out there. That may not be the way to go."

"How about this," Kingsley suggested. "Wait for an hour or so after we get there to see if the creature turns up. If it does, I'll drive it off and then you can adjust the warding scheme. Otherwise, you can go ahead with a Light and Darkness-aligned Golden Frame."

"Sounds like a good idea," said Harry.

"Yeah," Miriam said. "I guess it is. I'd just rather get out of here as soon as possible." She shivered. "This place gives me the creeps."

"I know what you mean," Harry said, glancing around. "It's a weird place." He unconsciously rubbed his scar, which was starting to feel sore.

Kingsley did an odd motion which Harry realized was a one-armed shrug. "I've been in worse places." He was probably just trying to reassure them, as a moment later Harry heard him murmur, "Not many, though."

* * *

They stopped at the edge of the forest and took out whatever recreation they had. For Harry and Kingsley, it was a few back issues of _The Enemies of Darkness_, a popular comic about Aurors. The main character was loosely based on famous retired Auror Mad-Eye Moody. Miriam, on the other hand, had an aged parchment covered in runes that Harry had never seen before. She was clearly translating it, slowly and laboriously.

They waited for two hours, but the only vaguely Dark creature they saw was a red cap, which Kingsley repelled with a flick of his wand. After those hours had passed, Miriam rolled up her scroll and declared, "It's not going to show up. Let's just set up the wards and get out of here."

Harry nodded. "I guess not. Give me five minutes to work out the ley lines and Arithmantic balances, then you can get started on the runes."

"Go right ahead," the older Wardcrafter said.

Harry finished in four minutes. The pattern of ley lines was… odd… but simple enough. They had been pulled into a spiral, roughly centered at an abandoned tower near the middle of the woods. Probably remnants from some wizard who used to live there: a sufficiently powerful wizard sometimes warped ley lines around them. For at least 500 years, for example, the ley lines around Hogwarts had been arranged in a perfect circle, and they spiraled in around Diagon Alley as well, centered on Ollivander's shop. But the tower had clearly not been lived in for nearly 100 years. For a spiral like this, it would either need to be inhabited right then or to have had someone stronger than Dumbledore living there.

Well, that wasn't his concern. Harry marked down the ley lines on the map they had brought with them, wrote their elemental alignments and Arithmantic balances, and passed it on to Miriam.

She glanced it over and nodded. "You do good work, Potter," she commented. "And quickly, too. This would have taken me a lot longer." Harry grinned as she continued to look it over. "Alright, so it looks like we're close to a confluence point," she said, tapping a point where three lines touched. "Only a mile away. We should get hiking."

"That's a very weak confluence, though," Harry said. "There's a better one only a little farther, here."

"That one is only two lines," Miriam said.

"But those two connect to more than those three," Harry pointed out.

"Harry's right," Kingsley said, peering at the map. "Look, only these two are missed, and both are short and lie entirely within the boundaries of the ward."

Miriam nodded grudgingly. "Okay, so we'll head a mile into the forest to get to the better confluence point there. I'll link to the water line, Potter, you'll link to the air line. Shacklebolt, will you serve as the connecter?" The big Guardian nodded, and Miriam continued. "I'll carve the base runes, Potter will visualize the spellwork, and then Shacklebolt, you feed us power. Got it?" Harry and Kingsley both flashed her thumbs ups. "Good. Let's move."

It took them about fifteen minutes to reach the confluence point, and another few to set up. Harry scribbled down the necessary spell equations while Miriam used a knife to cut runes into the ground, then they each took Kingsley's hand and stood over the runes. Harry reached up into the sky, wand in hand, and cast a line of unformed magic towards the ley line. The magic sunk into the air-aligned ley line as Miriam did the same thing towards the nearby stream, and a rush of sensations hit Harry.

Harry visualized the ley line as a huge gust of wind entering his mindscape, and battened down the books of his memory. He hadn't expected the power of the ley line to be so intense. He had to do something: Miriam already had hers in control.

"What's the holdup, Potter?" she demanded. "It's not that hard."

Harry gritted his teeth. "Easy for you to say. Air is more chaotic than water."

Miriam rolled her eyes. "Just do it."

Harry let the gust catch one of his memories up and pull it open. A memory of sleep, to be exact: the feeling just after you wake up when you're incredibly relaxed. Instantly, the wind stilled, becoming a lazy swirl instead if an angry blast. He had it. "Ready," he said.

Harry felt a gentle pressure on his mind. That would be Miriam's magic, flowing through Kingsley to him. He sent an answering streamer of his own magic to connect to hers. Her magic felt like the smell of strawberries and chocolate. Harry idly wondered what his own felt like.

They began working. The Golden Frame was build quickly within their minds, anchored to the runes that Miriam was imagining and shaped around the ley lines as Harry visualized them. After only an hour or so, the construct was finished, and they began drawing on Kingsley's power to force the Frame on to the ley lines. Just as it was released into the lines, to be carried throughout the forest, a noise came from behind them.

Harry broke away from Kingsley and Miriam to see what had made the noise at the same time Kingsley did the same thing. What they saw chilled his blood.

There were two_ things_ at the edge of the clearing, both looking at the trio hatefully. One was an inky black cloud, very roughly in the shape of a man, but each arm split into a wide swath of tentacles, and the legs dissolved into smoke, which trailed off behind it. The face was worst of all, a horribly-attractive man, with thin, cruel-looking lips and narrow, bright red eyes, the only spot of color in the horrid creature. The other being, however, was perhaps worse.

At first glance, it seemed to be a Dementor. But Dementors floated a few inches above the ground, with no legs, while this thing walked. What little Harry could see of its legs were as desiccated and blackened as a Dementors hands, and speaking of hands there were the creatures: longer and thinner than a Dementor's, each tipped with a wicked-looking claw. The most terrible part of it, though, was the face. Dementors kept their hoods up at all times, but this creature's hood was down. The face was rotting off the skull, only barely clinging to it, and its missing lips displayed the sharp teeth easily. Its eyes were missing, jagged holes remaining as though they were hacked out by a knife. It projected an aura of fear and darkness, just as the Dementors did. Harry began to hear, in the back of his head, the screams of his mother.

"_Expecto Patronum_!" A large silver lynx sprang from Kingsley's wand and growled menacingly at the Dementor-creature. Harry gasped in relief as the cold darkness was pushed back. The creature itself, however, was unfazed, simply cocking its head to the side.

"_Expecto Patronum_!" Harry snapped, sending forth his own brilliant stag Patronus forth. Miriam echoed him a moment later, creating a silvery porcupine to help combat the creature. But it didn't even seem to notice the Patroni, only the lack of its own aura.

The smog-creature snarled, revealing sharp teeth and a long, snakelike tongue. -|Harry Potter|- it hissed, eyes locking on the faint scar on Harry's forehead. -|I will _kill_ you!|-

Harry stumbled backwards as the smoky creature leapt forward, trailing smog behind it. He flicked his wand, bringing up a glowing blue shield.

The smog flared its nostrils angrily. -|If I can't have you,|- it hissed, -|I will have your friend!|- Harry furrowed his brow – none of his friends were here – then realized what it meant all too late. It rushed forward again, engulfing Kingsley's lynx and causing its bright light to wink out. A moment later, as Kingsley stumbled, the Dementor-creature rushed forward and Kissed the former Auror. Harry saw, as if in slow-motion, Kingsley's muscles slacken and his eye glaze over.

"No!" Harry shouted, and he slashed his wand at the Dementor-thing, releasing a blast of barely-controlled magic pulled directly from the ley line he was still linked to. A huge surge of wind pushed it away from Kingsley's body, but did no actual harm. A moment later, he realized what a terrible idea that had been, as the mental gust of wind that represented the line made a renewed attack. Harry stumbled, clutching his head. Memories flashed past his eyes as they were blown from the shelves, the wind blowing around aimlessly.

The smog-man tilted its head curiously and met Harry's eyes. Harry felt it enter, the feeling colder and more terrible than Snape, but could do nothing to stop it.

-|They have taught you nothing,|- the creature laughed after a moment, high and cold. -|Nothing!|- Still laughing, it drifted towards Kingsley's soulless body.

"Get away from him!" Miriam cried, jumping in between the creature and Kingsley.

It simply snorted. -|You are less than nothing to me, woman, even when I am in this form.|- Then it looked into her eyes.

A moment later, she began to scream.

The smog laughed again, and continued its journey towards Kingsley. Harry managed to eject the ley line from his mindscape, disconnecting himself from it, just in time to see the smog enter Kingsley's body through the mouth.

Kingsley stood, suddenly vital and living again, and flexed his arm. "Ah," he said, voice just as deep and comforting as ever. "Much better." He beckoned to where his wand lay on the ground, having fallen when he was Kissed, and it flew up into his hand. "Good. This body's magic is strong. Not as strong as mine, of course, but that one isn't available at the moment." He turned and glared at Harry. "Have you figured out who I am, -|Potter?|- On the last word, his voice slipped into the guttural hissing the smog creature had used.

Harry's mouth was almost too dry to answer. Lacking a body, Parseltongue... -|Voldemort,|- he hissed.

Voldemort, possessing Kingsley's body, smiled. "Not entirely useless, are you? But this body, while useful, lacks a certain... something. You possess it." He turned to face the Dementor-creature. -|If you would, Astrapes.|-

The Dementor-creature regarded Voldemort impassively. -|I would not,|- it declared in a voice which was not cold, just... empty. -|I agreed to help you regain a body. Now _you_ will assist _me_.|-

Voldemort's face twisted with rage for a moment before it settled back into a faint smile. -|Very well.|- He turned back to Harry, ignoring Miriam, who had now collapsed to the ground, still trying to scream but not having enough breath. "So, you know -|Parseltongue|- as well. I wondered if you would. Your mother did, you know."

Harry growled. This man had killed his parents, had terrorized the wizarding world for years, and was now talking to him as though they were _friends?_ He snapped his wand forward and cried out a Dark curse he had read about. "_Fulminar_!"

A bolt of lightning sprang from his wand, leaping for Voldemort, who almost lazily flicked his wand down and cast a incantation Harry had never even heard of. "_Magnegren._" The lightning instantly twisted at a right angle, slamming harmlessly into the earth. But Harry had what he wanted: the touch of Voldemort's magic on his.

The ward which had been erected only minutes ago was still drawing power from Kingsley's body, now Voldemort's. That one, quick, touch of Harry's magic on Voldemort's had allowed Harry to link back to the ward and bring it crashing down. And that meant that Harry could Apparate.

With a CRACK, Harry was in the room where they had arrived. He snatched up the return Portkey and called out the command word, being whisked away back to England before Voldemort could follow.


	6. James Tau

Harry felt numb as he told Dumbledore about what had happened in Albania. "...and now Voldemort has a body again, and it's all my fault," he finished morosely. "Kingsley is dead, and I just left Miriam for him to do who knows what..."

"Harry," Dumbledore said sternly, "it's not your fault. You did all that you could. It was not your job to protect Kingsley, after all; completely the opposite, in fact. And it's not as bad as it may seem." Harry looked up hopefully as he continued. "Voldemort is very vain. He always did his best to avoid the side effects of the Dark rituals he went through. He will not call his followers until he has his own body once more, and he still has only those same options available. None are possible without a loyal servant, and this Dementor seems more like an ally than a servant."

"He could go after the stone," Harry said. "Sure, it would be difficult to get past the Flamels, but we should warn them anyway."

"We should, yes," Dumbledore agreed. And we should bring the Order back together, try and keep any of his servants from learning of his possible return. But we can still do nothing until James is back. What did you tell your superiors at Gringotts? They surely wanted to know what happened to a Wardcrafter and Guardian..."

"I told them the truth, or not far from it. The Dark creature interrupted us while we were casting, and killed both Kingsley and Miriam before the remnants of the ward collapsed and we could Apparate out. I managed to survive long enough to Apparate back to the Portkey."

Dumbledore nodded. "All that remains is to find you some new employment."

Harry blinked. "What?"

"As we have seen, working for Gringotts means that you can't control your movements," Dumbledore explained. "While it's possible that something similar might have happened no matter who went to ward the forest, and then we wouldn't know even as much as we do know, you could have died yesterday if not for Voldemort's apparent decision to possess Kingsley, presumably to torture you, rather than using legilimency to break your mind as he did with Miss Cohen. Overall, the risks of you possibly having to go anywhere outweigh the possible rewards."

"Then what do you suggest?" Harry demanded, raising an eyebrow. "This is the job that best suits my skill set."

Dumbledore smiled a bit. "Have you ever thought of teaching?"

Harry stared at the headmaster. "What, as the Defense Professor?" he asked after a while. "I admit, I thought about it. But isn't that even worse than Gringotts? I mean, we'd know for a fact that something would come up to keep me from staying another year. And I'd need a Defense mastery first. I guess I planned to get one anyway, but I'd still need a job until then..."

"Actually," said Dumbledore, "there's an old an obscure rule, dating from the 1700s, which allows a wizard doing independent spell research for the purposes of defending against the Dark Arts to be sponsored by the Ministry. Research for a Defense mastery would certainly count. As for the curse, I believe I've finally isolated the strands of the spell among the castle's wards. It's very complex, but by the end of next school year, I'm sure that James and I will be able to dispel it."

"Who is James, anyway?" Harry asked. "All I know is that he's good at mind magics and is in Tibet for some reason."

"Yetis, as a matter of fact," Dumbledore told Harry. "James is researching their ability to locate living creatures using magic. There's no other way for animals of their size to survive in mountains on meat alone without it, after all, and spells are ineffective at finding living things. But that's just why he's in Tibet. James Tau is the head of the Department of Mysteries, and a good friend of mine."

Harry nodded. James would surely be a good ally. "Okay. So I'll get this sponsorship from the Ministry - how much is it, anyway?"

"About 25 galleons a month. Enough to live on and fund your research, but not much more."

"Okay. So I'll get this sponsorship and prepare for the Mastery test, and I'll be getting lessons from James, and he'll be working with you to dispel the curse. And school year after next, assuming the curse is broken and I've taken and passed the test, I'll be the new Defense Professor?"

Dumbledore nodded. "That is the plan. Of course, we have many other things to do in the meantime."

"Okay," said Harry. "Just... send me a copy of the spell's framework, okay? Maybe I can get a hint to it while I'm poking around in Voldemort's head."

* * *

Harry's resignation was taken quite well by the Gringotts goblin he reported to. "After all," it said, "a neat-death experience on your first job can't have left a very good impression on you." It offered to give him a recommendation if he planned to start an independent warding business, but he declined.

The application for Ministry sponsorship had also been surprisingly easy. When he asked a clerk for the appropriate form, they had denied offering such things, but after checking the records had found a copy of the form. Harry filled out, and, on a whim, put 'developing a charm to create semi-sentient maps' as the goal of his research. He was close to completion on the Map, after all, and it would certainly count as a Defense project. And an independent project was a required part of any mastery project, after all.

That done, Harry continued his work on the Map. He quickly finished the section of _the Black Encyclopedia_ he had been reading earlier and moved on to the third spell compendium from the Black family's library, _the Fae Guide_. While considerably smaller than the _Encyclopedia_ or _Vergam's Book_, it was mental spells only, many of which could be used to compel. Harry resigned himself to a long read.

It wasn't that bad, really. There were some rather interesting spells described in it, like the Empathy hex, which caused the target to feel all the pain they inflicted on others. Harry entertained a brief thought of casting it on Voldemort before he moved on to reading about the Pale Death curse.

Nearly a month later, though, just after Hogwarts began again, Harry had to admit defeat. He had worked out the resultants of every compulsion spell and charm he could think of, from the simple and unsubtle Oppugno to the complex and subtle Morpheus curse. And Remus and Sirius still refused to tell him what it was, saying that they didn't want to mess with his Mastery. To be fair, they were right – he had to do all the research himself. But it was frustrating.

Thankfully, they would hopefully be able to make more headway on the Voldemort problem soon. James Tau was due to arrive from Tibet the following morning.

* * *

Harry met Dumbledore in the Ministry Atrium a few hours before noon, when James was supposed to arrive by portkey. "Good morning, Albus," he said.

"Hello Harry," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And how are you this fine morning?"

Harry sighed. "I haven't been able to make much headway with the Map, unfortunately. I've looked at every compulsion charm I can think of, but…"

"Your father and his friends were very clever," Dumbledore agreed. "Perhaps you might find some inspiration when you get into Voldemort's mind." A ministry worker passing by winced.

Harry shrugged. "I'll see if I can see anything that might help, but it won't be the highest priority."

Dumbledore nodded. "Of course. Now –"

There was a sudden rush of wind and an implosion of color, and James Tau stood in the center of the Atrium.

He was rather tall, only an inch or so shorter than Dumbledore, and was clearly wearing his work clothes. A clean white button-down shirt and a pair of thick brown cargo pants underneath a dark grey cloak, clasped at the throat by a plain disk of amethyst.

The tall unspeakable stepped forward, pulling the hood of the cloak back to reveal his face, dominated by a pair of brilliant purple eyes, powerful and eye-drawing. "Albus!" he declared in a strong, deep voice. "Nice to see you. Who's this?"

Dumbledore smiled, clapping James on the back. "James, always a pleasure. This is Harry Potter."

James' eyes lit on the scar on Harry's forehead, just for a moment, before settling on his face. "Nice to meet you, Harry," he said. "What's this about, Albus? It's always good to see you, of course, but you're usually too busy to meet me when I get back from a field trip."

"We need your expertise with legilimency and occlumency," Dumbledore said shamelessly. "It seems that Voldemort is not as gone as we believed." James sucked in a breath as the aged headmaster continued. "However, thankfully, it seems that a sort of mental link was created between Harry and Voldemort on that fateful night. He should be able to enter Voldemort's mind, but…"

"… but he needs to be able to hide his presence from Voldemort," James said, nodding in understanding. "I can help with that, but the techniques I have to teach are very advanced…"

"I actually do know some mind magic," Harry said. "Albus taught a course on occlumency and legilimency during my sixth year."

"Harry was excellent at occlumency, the best I taught. Second best at legilimency, too."

Harry had to chuckle. Hermione had always been frustrated at how good she was at legilimency. She didn't think it was a nice kind of magic.

James met Harry's eyes. "We'll see."

Harry felt, just for a moment, something tickling the edge of his mindscape. He tightened up the walls, and it retreated. He grinned.

James raised an eyebrow. "You had a crush on Luna Lovegood?"

Harry flushed. He had never told that to anyone, not even Ron or Hermione. "Not for two years," he retorted. "How did you do that? I barely felt a thing!"

James smirked. "Misdirection and subtly, not brute force," he explained. "That's the trick to legilimency. Now then, I'll come by tomorrow to start teaching you. Where do you live?"

"I live with Sirius Black," Harry said. "Number Twelve-"

"-Grimmauld Place," James finished. "I'll see you there."

* * *

**A/N: Yes, James Tau is the same Department Head biographied in the last chapter of my Files from the Department of Mysteries fix, and yes, Healer Dane from earlier on is the same as from King of Serpents. I like to keep the number of my OCs down, as it lets them be more complex and interesting, and sharing them between stories helps with that.**

**Also, just for the record, I have no plans to have any pairing for this story. While other characters might get together, Harry will be single for the duration of the story.**


	7. Legilimency Lessons

The next morning, Harry had a quick breakfast before preparing to receive James. He spent the time while he waited working on his mindscape. He hadn't had much opportunity or reason to go beyond the simple library had had built while working with Dumbledore, but he spent some time doing so now.

He began by expanding it. While before, every single book had contained a memory, with the library spanning perhaps a city block in size, he quickly built it out until it was more than a square mile, relatively speaking, and only one book in thirty or forty truly held a book. After a moment's reflection, he decided that the order of the shelves might be a liability, and went in search of a puzzle book. After finding one that Hermione had given, he flipped to the section on mazes and began memorizing the layouts of the hardest ones. It would take some time, but he could set the library's shelves out along the pattern of the most difficult mazes, making it nearly impossible to navigate the mindscape without his help. Thankfully in his own mindscape he didn't suffer the same restrictions as others did, and was able to know everything about it without effort.

The process of expanding the library had taken several hours, and Harry was beginning to worry. It was almost noon, and there was still no sign of James. "Sirius!" he called, coming downstairs to see Sirius working, as always, on dismantling the spellwork layered around his mother's portrait.

"Hold on a second, I think I've actually made a breakthrough this time!" Sirius called back. Harry turned the corner of the stairs in time to see Sirius poke his wand at the empty air and mutter a word. A moment later, there was a bright flash and a complicated mesh of electric blue light flashed throughout the air before disappearing. The portrait froze in place, watching to see what happened.

"What part of the spell was that, Sirius?" Harry asked.

"I think that was the part that tied the permanent sticking charm Kreacher cast to the house's wards, and through them to the ley lines around London," Sirius said, staring at his mother. "The spell can't get power from them now, and it can't get power from Kreacher, either, he's dead. So it should dissolve on its own before long, and if not I'll be able to brute-force dispel it, or at the very least get the Headmaster to help do it."

Harry frowned. "Any shade of blue isn't the color that spells which link wards to other spells makes when they're dispelled, though," he commented. "Only household charms make blues when they're dispelled."

Sirius furrowed his brow in confusion, but then his eyes widened in horror as Mrs. Black grinned in triumph. "_TRAITOR!" _she howled at Sirius, and both he and Harry winced at the volume. "_DEFILER OF THIS ANCIENT HOUSE, DISGRACE TO MY LINE!"_ She would have continued, but both Harry and Sirius had already cast Silencing charms at her.

Sirius sighed. "I guess it was just the Silencing charm that the Ministry workers attached to the main body of the spell," he said. "I don't understand how it got so twisted up with it, though."

"Probably just the normal effect of Diagon Alley's radiating magic over time," Harry guessed. "After I've worked out the Map, I'll try to help you with the Sticking charm."

Sirius nodded as the doorbell rang.

"That'll be James," Harry said, hurrying over and opening the door. Indeed, the tall unspeakable stood outside, although he wasn't wearing the grey cloak of his post, just a normal black one.

"Good morning, Harry," James said, stepping inside and removing the cloak to reveal a finely tailored muggle suit beneath. "Do you have somewhere for me to hand this?"

Harry took the cloak from him and hung it in the closet concealed within the wall to the side of the door. "There's a table in the library for us to work at," he said, nodding towards the stairs.

"Excellent," James said. "Then we can get right to it. We can take a break in an hour or so for lunch and headache potions."

Harry raised an eyebrow as they climbed the stairs. "You think we'll need headache potions?"

James nodded. "Aggressive legilimency always gives you a headache, no matter which end of it you're on," he explained.

"But I need to be using subtle legilimency to not be detected by Voldemort," Harry said.

James gave him a look as they entered the library. "Trust me, Harry," he said, somewhat condescendingly, "there's no way that Voldemort won't notice you in his mind instantly. You're going to want to get in and out as fast as possible, then keep _him_ out. There's no hope in doing it unnoticed, so there's no point in me teaching you subtlety. I'm going to teach you speed and proper occlumency."

Harry considered this. It did seem to make a certain amount of sense, although he wasn't sure that Voldemort would really notice him that fast. Still, he could always humor James. "Alright," he said, sitting across from James. "Let's get to it, then."

James nodded and met Harry's eyes, purple boring into green. "Try entering my mind."

Harry focused his magic and propelled himself forward. A moment later, he found himself in what must be James' mindscape.

At first, Harry thought that James also had built himself an enormous library, but then he realized that it wasn't books that filled the towering shelves of the massive building. They glittered in the flickering torchlight that permeated the dark room, even larger that the newly-expanded library Harry had. Glass spheres, varying in size from tiny marbles to massive globes as tall as Harry's amorphous form. James' mindscape must be based on the fabled Hall of Prophecy, in the Department of Mysteries.

Harry extended a mental tendril and touched the nearest sphere. Instantly, he found himself in a memory – a muggle concert hall, filled with the sound of Beethoven's Fifth. Harry extracted himself and began moving through the shelves.

Continuing to tap on occasion spheres, Harry began to understand James' system. The vast majority of the spheres were perfectly clear, and contained pure sense memories – overwhelming scents, noises, tastes, and feelings, obviously placed as defense. The first one he had touched had been the sound of a gong, right next to his ear, and had almost startled Harry back to his own body. The next was the taste of jalapeño. Harry quickly learned to avoid them.

A few spheres were tinted a very faint blue, and contained memories of dry, boring textbooks. Harry soon realized they all held excerpts from history books, and were likely there as misdirection as well.

Others were faint green, and held memories of pain. Harry only entered one, and had felt a burning sensation covering his arm. It was the memory of being scorched by an opponent in a dueling tourney. Harry didn't stay in the memory for more than a moment, but had caught a glimpse of dark black hair and eyes of a piercing icy blue.

Pale red orbs contained memories of music – some played by James himself on the piano, others pieces he had heard played by others, often in muggle concert halls.

After having wander for a relative hour, Harry was forced to admit defeat, and exited James' mind after only a few minutes had passed in the outside world.

"You haven't had much experience with misdirection in occlumency, have you?" James inquired, blinking as Harry pulled back.

Harry shook his head. "Albus only taught us more brute-force methods," he agreed. "Where were the important memories?"

"Beneath," James said with a superior smirk. "The entire building you were in, which was modeled after the Hall of Prophecy, was a ruse containing only unimportant memories. If you had gone through the floor, you would have come across my true mindscape, which looks like a collection of pensieve memories."

"That's impressive," Harry said in amazement. "I worked on my mindscape a little this morning, but I can't even imagine the effort it must take to build an entire fake mindscape above it."

"May I see?" James asked. Harry didn't answer, figuring the meeting James' eyes was enough.

This time, Harry noticed when James entered his mind. He noticed that, like his own form and those of Snape and Dumbledore, James appeared as the amorphous cloud of someone who couldn't become an animagus. Professor McGonagall had once come into Dumbledore's Occlumency class to show students how people who could become animagi appeared in their animagus forms while in minds, and she had indeed taken the form of a cat.

James spent a few moments moving around Harry's mindscape, and he was amazed at how fast the Unspeakable was moving. Even in the accelerated time of the mind, he spent less the a second in each book, even the ones which contained memories, and was moving through the shelves far faster than Harry was able to move. It was a curious sort of bounding locomotion that Harry had trouble observing – he was pretty sure that often, the tendrils James was using to move were going _through _each other.

"How do you do that?" Harry asked as soon as James pulled from his mind, before James could say anything.

"Practice," James said calmly. "If you mean the movement, it's based on how octopuses move while underwater. They almost walk on their tentacles, always shifting their weight from one to another. I modeled a slightly more efficient method of movement on theirs, since my tendrils can pass through each other. If you'll enter my mind again, I'll pass the memory of how to do it on to you."

Harry met James' eyes once more and found himself in the Hall of Prophecy again. There was a flash of light behind him, and he turned to see a glowing vial floating in the air before him. He extended a tendril towards it and found himself in a memory.

He was in his _own_ mindscape, bounding along swiftly, tossing out tendrils and shifting from one to the next. The memory was of James in his mindscape only minutes ago. As James approached the end of the row of shelves, a long, thin tendril was cast out to grab onto the corner of the shelf, and he was lifted off his not-quite-legs, turning around into the next row of shelves without slowing.

A moment later, Harry was forcibly ejected from the memory. He began moving, using the memory he had just experience to figure out how to move in James' strange, bounding fashion. The feeling of tendrils passing through each other was odd, but not unpleasant. As he neared the end of a row of spheres, he tossed out a tendril, intending to grasp the shelf and swing around into the next row, as James had done in his mind.

Unfortunately, he missed the shelf and grabbed a hold of one of the larger spheres instead. He was lifted off his limbs for a moment, but landed on the ground again as the sphere tumbled off the shelf, knocking over others as it did. An avalanche of spheres landed on the ground around Harry, shattering and releasing their memories, all of which struck Harry like a hammer. He hurriedly blocked them off, managing to hold off the majority of the memories, but still forcibly felt the sound of a dragon's roar, the taste of cinnamon, the feeling of a leg breaking, and an entire book on the seventh goblin rebellion, all while a catchy jazz tune played in the background.

The next thing Harry knew, he had been ejected from James' mind with a splitting headache, and was lying on the floor, his head cradled by Sirius. Sirius was kneeling on the ground, holding his head in one hand and pointing his wand at James, who had his wand out, a sparkling golden sphere surrounding him.

"What happened?" Harry asked, wincing at the too-loud sound of his own voice.

"I heard you scream, and ran in," said Sirius. "You were lying there, screaming, and this asshole wasn't doing a thing to help!"

"There's nothing that can be done to heal a headache caused by a bad legilimency trip," James said calmly, still projecting the sparkling sphere. "Only time will heal it, as I said, Sirius. And you see? Harry is fine now."

"Sure, Tau, sure… thirty minutes later!" Sirius snapped, stressing the unspeakable's last name. "This lesson is over."

"Of course," James said agreeably. "There is little point in continuing now. Harry's mental form will have been greatly stressed, and he shouldn't use any more mind magic for at least 24 hours."

"What shield is that?" Harry asked James as Sirius huffed and left. "I don't think I've ever seen anything like it."

"It's a temporary ward," James explained. "The Golden Cage, in fact, with a modification so it bars magic instead of creatures. It requires a great deal of energy to cast at first, but is easier to maintain that most shields."

"I didn't know it was possible to cast wards without tying them to a ley line," Harry said, leaning forward to looking at the power flowing from James to the ward.

James shifted uncomfortably and flicked his wand, allowing the ward to collapse. "It's not easy. You need to provide the initial pulse of magic yourself instead of creating a frame for the ley line's power, so only real magical powerhouses can do it. But it's possible. I've seen Dumbledore do it as well."

"Do you think I could learn?" Harry asked. "I've never had trouble with power."

"Perhaps," James said, still seeming uncomfortable. "If you'll excuse me, I need to go." He hurried off, then paused. "I would recommend against doing anything magically strenuous over the next few hours," he told Harry. "Do something that relaxes your mind." He turned and left.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Something that relaxes my mind? Alright… hey, Sirius! Let's work on that sticking charm!"


End file.
